Chapter Twelve #2
The pair of ruffians dragged Drake out of the parlor, through the inn’s reception area, and out the door, before shoving him free and returning to their unscrupulous employers. No small man himself, Drake was tempted to go after them and do as much damage as he could.
“I wouldn’t be doing that, my lord,” said the youngling tending his horse. “There be four more just like them two. They just went ’round back, but I seen’m all talking together afore. Them blackguards all be cut from the same cloth, as my mam always says.”
The lad was right. The best thing Drake could do was hie himself to Broadmere Hall and warn the duke and his sisters. He dug every coin he had out of his pocket and gave them to the boy. “Thank you.”
With a hearty nod and a grin, the lad handed him the reins. “Thank you, my lord.”
Drake launched himself into the saddle and spurred the mount onward to the Broadmeres’.
Heart pounding and gut churning, an ominous sense of doom nagged at him, whispering, You are too late.
He clenched his teeth and pushed the horse harder.
He could not be too late. His precious Felicity had to be safe.
As soon as he neared the entrance, he leapt from the saddle, ran to the door, and hammered on it. He almost shouted, “You must let me in!” But he caught himself in time.
Thankfully, Fipps answered the door and swung it open wide. “Good afternoon, Lord Wakefield. Do come in.”
“Thank you, Fipps. Is Lady Felicity available? It is most urgent.”
The butler puckered the slightest frown, which was unusual for the stoic servant. “Lady Felicity has gone to the village with her sister, my lord. Would you care to leave your card so she will know you called?”
“No. That might be too late.” Drake debated going after her, then glanced at the closed door of the library. “Is His Grace available? I promise it is most urgent. Lady Felicity could be in danger.”
“One moment, my lord.” As Drake had hoped, Fipps quietly knocked on the library door, then entered after a muffled command bade him to. It was but a moment before he reemerged and motioned Drake forward. “His Grace and Lady Serendipity will see you now.”
“Thank you, Fipps.” Drake swallowed hard. This would not go well. How could it possibly?
“How is our Felli in danger?” Serendipity asked before he was fully into the room and had closed the door behind him.
Broadmere came out from behind his desk, looking ready to do battle. “What have you done?”
“My uncle owes Rum and Catherty a large sum of money from his days in the gambling hells. They are willing to do anything to him”—Drake thumped a fist to his chest—“and to me to collect what they are owed and then some.”
Broadmere’s eyes narrowed as he moved closer. “You speak as if your uncle still lives.”
“He does.”
“What?” Serendipity shot up from her seat and charged toward him. “What do you mean?”
“Rum and Catherty’s cutthroats caused the carriage accident that supposedly killed Uncle George. He did not die. We made it look as though he did to keep them from trying again and succeeding.”
Slowly shaking her head, Serendipity turned to her brother, but they both remained silent.
“We faked the funeral, the burial, everything,” Drake said. From the look on the duke’s face, he would be lucky if Broadmere didn’t kill him. “The old man bound to the bath chair at Wakefield Manor is not Mr. Charles Pembroke, but the sixth Earl of Wakefield.”
“That makes you…” Broadmere stared at him.
“A fraud. An impostor. Nothing more than a once-proud member of the landed gentry.” Drake kept his hands fisted at his sides, digging his fingernails into his palms. “I did not do it for the title, but to save my uncle. Just as my father often saved his brother up until the time he died.” He stared down at the floor, shaking his head.
“And I used up every possible resource I possessed to try to pay my uncle’s debts and restore some honor to the Wakefield name.
All for naught, because Rum and Catherty unraveled our poorly established farce and are now not only demanding payment for what they are owed but blackmailing me for impersonating a peer. ”
“They will never be satisfied,” the duke said. “You do realize that?”
With a heavy sigh, Drake forced himself to look the man in the eye. “I do.”
“And you think they will harm Felli?” Serendipity eased closer, her hands tightening into fists.
Drake braced himself. She was surely about to strike him, and she had every right. “They are aware of my love for Felicity. Their spies are quite thorough, it seems. I feel certain my spineless uncle also told them anything they wanted to hear.”
“Your uncle is not the only one who is spineless,” Broadmere said, his tone blazing with rising fury. “When did you intend to tell my sister of this inconceivable lie?” The enraged duke bared his teeth like the caged lion he resembled.
“I do not know.” And he didn’t. Drake had hoped against hope for a miracle. Perhaps his cantankerous uncle might die or something. Anything that would enable him never to have to tell Felicity about this despicable secret.
Broadmere drew back and punched him in the face, backing him up several steps.
Drake stumbled, but regained his footing before he hit the floor.
With the back of his hand, he wiped the blood streaming from his throbbing nose, but he didn’t fight back.
He simply stood there and took it. He deserved every bit of their rage, but nothing they could possibly do would equal the fury he wished he could visit upon himself for being such a damned, trusting fool when it came to trying to save his worthless uncle.
“You realize your marriage would have been invalid if you had not told her before the wedding?” Murder in her eyes, Serendipity shook a fist at him.
“I had not thought of that,” he admitted, his soul crumbling even more.
“It seems to me you have not thought of a great many things,” the duke said, then punched him again, this time hitting him in the eye and knocking him to the floor.
“You not only mismanaged your ridiculous attempt to save the most manipulative, selfish bastard known to haunt the streets of London, but you mishandled every other resource placed at your disposal.” Broadmere slowly shook his head, then turned away.
“You are a damned fool, Wakefield.” He barked a bitter laugh.
“No. Not Wakefield. What the bloody hell is your real name?”
“Pemberton.” Drake gingerly touched his eye as he rose from the floor. “The name my father gave me. A name of honor.”
“Well, I would say the last thing you did was honor it,” Serendipity said before spitting on him. “And now you have endangered my sister’s life. Not only that, but when she learns of this latest lie, you will have ripped out her heart.”
“When did she and Merry leave for the village?” the duke asked Serendipity.
She shook her head. “It has been a while. They should be back anytime.”
“All I want is for her to be safe,” Drake said. “Even though I love her, I shall sever all ties with her. I swear it.”
“And that will not only break her heart but ruin her as well,” Broadmere said.
“Even though the banns have not officially been read, word of your ridiculous engagement to my overly trusting sister has already spread across the entire Lake District.” He threw up his hands.
“Knowing the speed at which the ton’s gossip travels, all of England has probably heard.
” He dropped into his chair behind his desk and held his head. “What a bloody mess.”
Shouts echoed out in the hallway, but Drake couldn’t make out who it was or what was said.
Serendipity ran to the door and yanked it open just in time for a sobbing Merry to tumble into her arms.
“She is gone, Seri!” Eyes wild, face red and shining with tears, Merry clutched her sister by the shoulders and shook her. “They made off with her. They stole our Felli!”
Drake sprang forward. “Who? Did you see who took her?”
“Three men,” Merry said, breathless with her sobbing.
“A black carriage I have never seen before. They jumped out and knocked her senseless, then grabbed her and dragged her into that carriage.” Screeching with a keening wail, she clutched her fists to her chest. “I fear they did her grave harm. I tried to stop them, but they threw me into the ditch. By the time I climbed out, they were gone.”
“Are you hurt?” Serendipity caught hold of Merry and led her to the settee.
“Just scrapes and scratches.” Merry pierced the air with another yowling sob. “Nothing like our poor Felli. Why would anyone do this? Who would wish to harm our sweet, gentle soul?”
“I will kill them.” Drake started for the door. “Which direction did they take?”
“North, I think.” Merry hugged herself and rocked in place. “But I failed to see which lane they took at the fork.”
“I am coming with you.” Broadmere rounded his desk. “You can take one fork, and I shall take the other.” Then he caught hold of Drake’s shoulder and held it with a bone-crushing grip. “If anything happens to my sister, I will kill you myself.”
Drake accepted the oath with a curt nod. It was nothing less than he deserved.
*
Drake headed up the fork to the right as the duke took the fork to the left.
Even though they had hurried to arm themselves, so much time had passed since the abduction that the roadway’s dust had settled, refusing to give any clues.
Where the devil would they take her? How far would they carry her to keep her hidden?
Why had he not told her sooner?
He snorted, already knowing the answer. Because he was a selfish, cowardly bastard.
He clenched his teeth until his jaws ached.
He was no better than his worthless uncle.
If he had told her straight away, and she had sent him packing, at least she would now be safe instead of stolen away in broad daylight.
He slowed his mount. If he kept up at the breakneck pace, the horse would surely fail in the heat of the overly warm afternoon.
Raking his gaze across the horizon, he prayed for a cloud of dust or some other sign of the runaway carriage.
Even though the blackguards had a head start, they couldn’t have gotten that far ahead.
That left him to wonder if they were hiding her somewhere close.
But where? Everyone in Binnocksbourne knew and loved Lady Felicity.
Surely no one would provide a place for the ruffians to keep her.
He scrubbed a hand across his face, wincing when he hit his bruised, swollen flesh.
That pain was nothing compared to the ache in his heart.
And Merry had said those heartless bastards had hit Felicity, rendering her unconscious.
His poor, dear one would be terrified when she awakened to discover her circumstances.
Not only terrified, but confused as to why this had happened.
Knowing Rum and Catherty, they would delight in telling her all the sordid details.
He shook his head. None of that mattered now. All that mattered was her safety and getting her home to her family.
A bit of dust farther down the way made his heart stutter. Once again, he urged his mount to a hard gallop, but his hopes were quickly dashed. It was merely a farmer with a wagon loaded down with hay.
“Excuse me, good sir,” Drake said as he came up alongside the man. “Did a black carriage pass through here recently? Within the last few hours?”
The farmer shook his head. “Been hauling hay on this road most of the afternoon. Nothing along here but me and some sheep today.” He nodded at Drake. “And now yourself.”
“Thank you.” Drake shifted in the saddle, squinting as he scanned the countryside. If the carriage had come this way, the farmer surely would have seen it. They had to have taken the fork to the left. He prayed that Felicity’s brother had caught up with them and shot the bastards.
He turned his mount and headed back the way he had come. If the duke were to encounter the carriage, he would need assistance. Drake knew the enraged man could very well fire upon him, but he didn’t care. If Felicity’s brother shot him, he hoped the bullet traveled straight and true to his heart.